


Anytime, Kid

by J_Adams2002



Series: Criminal Minds Fics/Oneshots [17]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Blood, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Injury, Nightmares, Platonic Relationships, Swearing, gender neutral reader, sharing a room with hotch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28813830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Adams2002/pseuds/J_Adams2002
Summary: Nightmares have been plaguing you for a few weeks now, and a certain chief takes notice at the hotel…
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader
Series: Criminal Minds Fics/Oneshots [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112387
Kudos: 29





	Anytime, Kid

Last night was terrible. 

Between the heat of summer and the cold sweats, you may as well woken up in a pool. You’ve had a grand total of five hours over the past three days. 

The nightmare is the same each time. The team go into an unsub’s house, and you watch all of them get shot down individually. Penelope’s always first, then JJ, then Morgan and Emily, then Rossi, Spencer, and finally, Hotch. The unsub always leaves you until the end, letting you watch your teammates die in front of you.

Then you wake up.

Today, you almost fall asleep standing up in the lift, and are startled awake when it dings on the sixth floor. You grab the strap of your bag tighter and walk out, quickly heading to the break room to get a cup of coffee. As you pour a packet of sugar in and add a bit of milk, Spencer walks in. 

“Morning,” he greets you, walking over to get his own cup. 

“Morning Spence,” you reply, stirring your coffee. Spencer looks over and raises an eyebrow. 

“You don’t normally have coffee in the morning. Are you okay?” He asks. You smile at how blunt the doctor is and shake your head. 

“I’m okay. Just a bad night’s sleep,” you say and leave to go to your desk. Soon after, the other members start to trickle in. First Derek, then Emily, then JJ, and finally, Rossi. Everyone looks a little rough, such is the nature of the job, but the others seem to take notice of you today. You’re leaning on your hands, dozing slightly as you try to fill out some paperwork from yesterday. 

JJ goes to walk over and ask you what’s wrong, only to be cut off by Hotch calling a briefing. She sighs and watches as you stand, using the desk for support and heading up the stairs. You trip over your own feet a little, only to be steadied by her. 

“You okay?” She asks. You nod.

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well last night,” you reply, making an excuse as you take your seat at the table. The others share a look before Garcia walks in, giving out the tablets (and Reid’s paper file) before giving a quick rundown of the case. You’re not listening though, you’re zoning in and out as you try to stay awake. God, you really should see a psychiatrist, or someone who’ll at least tell you what’s going on and give you something to help you sleep.

“Wheels up in thirty.”

What? Shit, you have no clue what’s happened with the case and where you’re going. As everyone gets up to leave, you stop Prentiss. 

“Okay, where are we going?” You ask. Emily raises an eyebrow and smiles a little. 

“Florida. Someone’s been mutilating prostitutes’ bodies,” she explains. “You okay? I’m normally the one asking you what’s happening.”

You nod. “Yeah. Yeah, just didn’t sleep well last night.”

God, how many more times are you going to have to say that? You may as well record yourself saying it and play it back whenever the question’s asked. You grab your go-bag, hoisting it over your shoulder and following the others to the strip and onto the jet. You throw your bag down and slump into the sofa, letting out a heavy sigh and closing your eyes. You can rest here, at least for two hours. 

**—•—**

“Kid? C’mon, we’re here.”

You feel a hand shake your shoulder and open your eyes. Sleep clouds your vision before it clears slightly, showing a concerned Rossi. 

“Huh? Sorry,” you apologise, quickly grabbing your bag and following the older agent off the plane. The heat and sun hit you in the face, making you squint. As you go through the airport to pick up the cars, Rossi taps your arm. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks. You sigh; for fuck’s sake. 

“I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well last night,” you answer. Dave raises an eyebrow, clearly not believing you, but accepting it as you get into an SUV. 

The day’s long, hard, and hot. It’s full of meeting the local police department, walking through some crime scenes, and snapping at a certain officer who decided to loudly proclaim that the victims were ‘asking for it’ due to their profession and the way they dressed. It took everything in you not to punch him, so much so that Hotch had to practically drag you away. 

Now, it’s the first night and you’re at a small motel in the lobby, waiting for Rossi and Hotch to sort out the rooms. You’re slumped in a chair, trying your hardest to keep your eyes open. You just need to get to your room and sleep, and pray that you don’t have a nightmare. You don’t want to deal with that again. 

Hotch walks back over and stands near you. 

“Okay, they’ve got six rooms, so someone’s going to have to double up with someone,” he explains. Immediately, JJ and Emily grab a key and leave, running to each claim a room. Rossi goes next, followed by Spencer. Lord knows he’ll struggle sharing a room. He likes things just so. Finally, Morgan stands and grabs a key, all while you’re zoned out. 

“Y/N? Y/N, you alright?” Hotch asks, his tone of voice changing slightly as he shakes you. You seem to snap out of it, looking up and rubbing your eyes. 

“‘M fine. Take it we’re sharing?” You reply. Hotch nods, picking the key up from the table and heading up the stairs. You grab your bag and follow, walking into the room and sighing. Hotch unlocks the door to reveal a standard double hotel room; two single beds, a bathroom, a wardrobe, and a TV. 

“I’ll take the one on the left,” you say, walking over and plopping your bag down. You two unpack in silence, hanging up your clothes and settling down, ready to work tomorrow. You look over as Hotch clears his throat. 

“I’ll take the first shower, if you don’t mind,” he says. You nod and wave him off, Hotch walking in and showering. As he cleans himself off, he can’t help but think about you. You seem tired a lot more than you usually do, as if you haven’t slept in a week. Maybe you’ve just had a lot of work to do, or maybe you can’t sleep in the heat.

Both of those are proven wrong as Hotch walks out in a pair of pyjama shorts and a t-shirt to see you passed out, still in the t-shirt and jeans you changed into after you got to the station. He gives a small smile and gets into his own bed, turning off the light on the nightstand and turning over, drifting off. 

**—•—**

_The unsub grabs Hotch by the neck, pulling him up and holding him in front of you, so you can as clear as the day. A gunshot rings out, and you see the blood splatter against the wall. You scream out. It always hurts the most to see Hotch die._

_“Y/N?”_

_Who’s calling you? The unsub, trying to make you see and mock you?_

_“Y/N, it’s okay.”_

_No. He’s dead. He’s dead._

_“Y/N!”_

You sit up, intaking a sharp breath and crying out. You pant, looking around. Where is he? 

“Hey, it’s me, it’s Hotch. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Your eyes scan around, the faint light source of the lamp giving you the outline of Aaron Hotchner. But you saw him die.

“But, but you-“

“I’m here, I’m here. You’re in the hotel. We’re in Florida.” Hotch runs through the different grounding techniques he’s picked up on through his years in the FBI. He pulls you down, helping you through the panic after your nightmare. 

“You…you died,” you mutter after a while. You two are now sat on the floor between the beds, Hotch’s arm around your shoulders. “The whole team died.”

“How long have you been having these nightmares?” He asks, not wanting to press too much but also wanting answers. 

“Erm, they st-started about t-two weeks ago,” you start, cringing at a) your shaking hands, and b) how sweaty you are. Your back is drenched and your hair feels wet. “They’re always the same. Everyone d-dies, one b-by one.”

Hotch’s face turns sympathetic, and he rubs your shoulder. 

“Well, we’re still here. I’m definitely alive, last time I checked-“ you share a light laugh “-and the others are too. I’ll book you an appointment with the therapist when we get back.”

You two sit there for a while. 

“Are you okay to go back to sleep?” Hotch asks. You nod and stand slowly, getting back into your bed. Aaron sighs and stands too, stretching. “Okay. Well, I’m literally next to you if you need me.”

You smile at him and nod. 

“Thank’s Hotch.”

“Anytime, kid. Anytime.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my Tumblr change-the-world-someday to get my fics a day earlier.


End file.
